Beautiful DIsaster
by justsomeone2010
Summary: The battle for New York is over. Worn and weary, Natasha spends the night in a crummy motel before she has to meet up with her team mates in the morning to send Loki back to Asgard. But she doesn't spend it alone...


**Chapter 1**

Natasha had been landed with Thor.

She unlocked the motel door with a dull metalic beep of acknowledgement from the machine she slid the card into, and a sigh from herself. The room that opened to her was wonderful.

She was exhausted. They all were. They'd battled against Loki and the Chitauri for what felt like years, fighting to save the city and, well, the world with everything they had. Now the battle was over. They'd won. But by God, they'd destroyed themselves doing it.

"Is this to be our accomodation?"

The voice growled softly behind her and Natasha's shoulders slumped. Her roommate for the night - the God of Thunder.

She sighed a again before lazily turning her head over her shoulder. The god stood staring with dark eyes between her and the opening room, his usually light, crisp gaze clouded.

She was too tired to care. "Yeah." she drolled, stepping forward with slow, dragging steps into the motel room. Small, could be cleaner, no TV or dresser, but it had a bed, a bathroom and a little vanity table thing with a mirror and an old style telephone. It could be worse. At least she could get some rest. She scuffed her way forward and perched down on the edge of the bed.

Thor followed her a little more warily. Natasha watched him cast his eyes around the small room, Mjolnir braced casually in his hand. That had given the receptionist a shock. Natasha could still see her wide eyes as she'd ran up and down Thor. The small, shitty television screen behind them in the reception had betrayed their identity instantly.

It didn't matter. They'd checked in and had a place to sleep for the night, and the rest could be worried about in the morning. For now, all Natasha wanted to do was sleep.

She threw herself back on the bed and groaned at the soft mattress that embraced her aching back, eyes fluttering with bliss.

The god cut through it harshly: "Are you certain Loki will be secure until morning?" he growled darkly.

Natasha just sighed. God, would he ever relax? The dude seemed to always have a permenant brooding expression on his face since she'd met him, always troubled and thinking. It was kind of adorable - until she remembered the way his arms were always folded when he did it, his bulging bicep muscles knocking 'adorable' out the window.

She didn't have the will to pull herself off from the bed. Or even to open her eyes for that matter! "He'll be fine, Thor." she sighed. "I don't know what sort of titanium shit Stark's got build into Jarvis's basement but trust me, Loki's not going anywhere."

She didn't want to think of why Stark literally had a secure metal vault under his house. Maybe some sort of panic room. It didn't matter - it was strong enough to keep Loki out of trouble for one night. One fault in the system and Jarvis would buzz Tony in a second. There were sensors that tracked his body heat, listened for the slightest sounds of life like breath, tracked the mass inside the room - the moment these ceased, Tony would be alerted.

She doubted anything would happen anyway. Frankly, Loki was just as exhausted as they were. Natasha may have faced a lot of foes today but the Hulk wasn't one of them. She bargained those few smashes Loki had taken with the giant had wiped him out just as much - if not more! - than all the many she'd battled with for hours. He wasn't going anywhere.

They wouldn't have left him alone like that if they weren't certain. If only Thor could understand that...

"Shut the door." Natasha murmured as she draped an arm over her face, feeling something ache somewhere in her tricep. Ouch. Still, she felt more relaxed as she heard the click of the door sliding back into place.

The dull metal clunk of Mjolnir hitting the floor made Natasha wince, but any complaint died in her throat as she lifted her head and saw that the snakeskin armour that had covered Thor's arms had fallen away with it. He stood resplendid in his chest plate and wrist cuffs, as he tugged his cape free from his shoulders.

"What happens now?" he gruffed tensely as he wondered up alongside the bed, folding his cape with his surprisingly nimble fingers.

Natasha watched him - and the flex of his arm muscles specifically - as he went. "Now we rest." she sighed. "Then we meet the others in the morning. You get Loki. You go away. And everything's alright until another global catastophe rears its head."

She actually caught her mouth watering a bit as the god set his folded cape on the floor and proceeded to stretch out his sore shoulders. God, he was just too magnificent for words, she thought.

"That's rather pessimistic." he rumbled quietly, crossing his arm across his chest to stretch out his impressive tricep. "Expecting a disaster like that. Is it too much to simply enjoy the current peace for as long as it lasts?"

Watching him loosen his stiff muscles made Natasha realise just how sore hers were too. Her waist squirmed, and she felt her body resist. She grimaced. Still, she knew others must feel much worse than her. Stark for one. He's fallen through a damned portal and had got slammed into by the Hulk. He'd be hurting, wherever he was.

She didn't know where the rest of them were. They hadn't stayed in Stark Tower. They hadn't trusted it as safe. They'd locked Loki away and left for seperate motels across the city.

Stark Tower was surrounded with police. Everything had started and centered there and was therefore the center of the investigation. Nothing would come of it of course, but Stark Tower was where they were all expected to be. And they were too tired for questioning. For fans. For anything. They just wanted quiet. They'd deal with it all in the morning. For now, they'd snuck away to more remote places in the city.

As far as she knew, Stark was with Bruce. He seemed to be the only person with the patience enough to deal with Tony's shit. Clint had tagged with Rogers, the out-of-time man probably never staying in a motel before, not knowing what to do.

And she'd been stuck with the Norse god.

He'd said nothing - thank God! - as she'd led him, just following. Perhaps he was too tired to care about the 'wonders of the mortal world' when he was this exhausted.

"S.H.I.E.L.D's job is to protect the Earth." she replied dryly. "I wouldn't be in full time employment if that threat wasn't constant."

The god flashed an amused, boyish grin her way. It was the first time she'd seen him smile since on the Helicarrier. That felt like years ago now. In reality, it had only been a day. The longest day of Natasha's life.

Thinking hurt. She let her head fall back on the mattress and closed her eyes, a small groan leaving her lips. The rusty taste of blood wafted into her mouth; she wasn't unscathed either. Her lip as split, and she lifted a weary hand to her head, feeling the wetness of blood in her hairline. She couldn't even remember how she'd gotten those injuries. There just hadn't been time in the fight.

Her eyes flickered up as a quiet rustling came from the bathroom, and she realised the god had left the bedside. The clamouring told her he was probably rifling through the cupboards.

What was he doing? Natasha wondered with an inward groan. What was he looking for? She didn't want to have to move, but as his baby-sitter she felt obliged to help him out. And if it quietened down the racket any sooner...she groaned for real as she sat up, feeling tauntness run up the back of her thighs and a stabbing pain in her middle. She ignored it though, peeling herself upright and off the bed. What was the oaf up to now?

She'd been right; the God of Thunder was knelt in front of the cupboard under the sink, the doors splayed wide open as he searched. Natasha wondered up into the doorway and leaned her shoulder on the frame, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What are you doing?" she grumbled, tilting her head against the doorframe too as she watched him. He seemed completely oblivious in his task until she spoke.

He glanced over his shoulder with eyes like molten aquamarine gems, lucid, warm and soft. They were beautiful. His hand lifted and his finger curled, inviting her inside. "Come." he murmured in a gentle rumble. "We must tend to your wounds."

Only then did Natasha notice the cloth he'd picked out from within the cupboard, draped over his knelt thigh. She didn't move from the doorway though.

"Does this realm not offer any cleansing lotion in its temporary accomodation?" Thor growled, turning back to the cupboard. "No medical supplies or aid? What sort of pitiful remedies do they have to treat the weary here?"

Natasha resisted the urge to smirk at him, knowing he was being completely serious. "They have soap." she offered. She nodded over to the bath as the god glanced inquisitively over his shoulder. He rose to investigate instantly, gathering up the small cloth in his hand. "Other than that... anything professional you'd have to get at a pharmacist or the hospital. They don't usually get people that need that sort attention here. For most, a bed and a shower is good enough."

"But you are hurt and need tending to." he replied instantly, straightening up with the soap. He tested the small bar between his fingers.

He glanced up and caught Natasha's weary green eyes watching him from the doorway - and jostled the soap and cloth into one hand, settling them on the dip at the bath corner.

She didn't move as the god sauntered slowly toward her. Chills ran through her though as his large strong hands rose and cupped her shoulders. He was so close Natasha could make out every bristle on his chin, every fleck of colour in his eyes. They gleamed at her gently. "Come." he breathed. "Sit." His hot breath bathed over her face and she resisted the urge to inhale deeply. It smelt sweet, like honey. "You said that tonight was for rest, and recovery falls into that catagory."

She couldn't argue really. She didn't exactly like having her forehead smeared with blood or being beaten and sweaty but...her eyes lowered and her arms unfolded as he let the god shuffle her forward, letting him guide and back her towards the bath.

She felt humiliated as she sat down, perching on the edge of the bathtub. Thor knelt down in front of her. Her eyes flickered up and caught his reassuring smile as he reached for the cloth, turning on the bath tap with the same hand and running the material under the water. Turning it off, he squeezed the excess water from the cloth, rubbing it over the soap instead.

His hand cupped the side of her head as he leaned it, lifting the cloth so she could see it. There were a few bubbles from the soap.

The god's eyes glistened at her. "This will hurt." he warned softly.

Natasha just cocked her head to the side - or as much as Thor's hand would let her anyway. "Do I look like I'm afraid of pain?"

Thor's lips pricked in a smirk, but it drained instantly as his eyes settled on his task, glazing with focus. They locked on her wound, his fingers following. Natasha screwed her eyes shut as the lathered cloth pressed again her bloodied cut, gritting her jaw against a hiss. It stung. She didn't make a sound as the god quietly cleaned her wound, wiping away the blood. He was surprisingly gentle.

Her eyes stayed shut. Whether to keep soap from running into her eyes or to distract from staring at the man-candy in front of her, she wasn't sure which.

Finally, Thor wiped the cloth gently away from her head. Natasha kept her eyes shut, sure he was just going to rinse the cloth and be back to rub more stinging soap into her cut. He didn't though. And she started when his finger hooked under her chin, thumb running along her lower, split lip.

Her eyes shot open.

Thor's were burning orbs of focus as he examined it. "There is nothing I can do for that." he murmured, thumb gently carressing the cut in her lip.

Natasha held her breath. His fingers were rough from battle, and she could feel the strength lurking behind them. Hell, she'd seen it! It was incredible! But here they were being as gentle and as tender as if he were handling a delicate newborn.

She wanted to deny the way her heart sped up in her chest. It was a tough lie, she thought, as her eyelashes fluttered blissfully.

"You're hurt too." she noted breathlessly, spotting the red, gleaming tinge to the front of his armour. It smeared over the middle ridges of silver. Not much. But enough to hurt surely. It wasn't like they'd come from scratches; the armour was too thick, too strong. Something had pierced the armour, and the god beneath.

Thor glanced down, not betraying any pain. He almost looked surprised by it. Natasha fought the urge to roll her eyes. "It's nothing." he breathed as he looked up again, finding her eyes effortlessly.

Natasha wasn't buying it. "A scratch on my forehead is nothing." she insisted standing up from her perch, clasping his hand with hers and guiding it down from her face. The god rose with her. "_That_ is more than a scratch."

She hoped he would comply. It wasn't like she could force him to do anything, him towering above her and with the strength to crush her and not bat an eyelid. She turned them around, and was glad when he didn't resist as her hands found his shoulders and pushed him down.

She took the cloth from his hand to the sink to rinse it, giving Thor the chance to remove his armour for her. She had no fucking clue. The dull clunk echoed around the bathroom as she splashed water over the flannel, wringing it free of her blood. She twisted and squeezed the material until there was silence behind her.

The cloth was clean and white as she turned back to the god - the shirtless god. She stopped in her tracks.

_Oh my..._

She couldn't help it; her eyes roamed over his body, drinking in the swell of his pectorals, the strength in his shoulders, each defined ab on his stomach so well cut it was like he was chiselled into perfection by some great artist. He _was_ a god. Truly.

The only thing that ruined the image was the little red blot of blood on the middle of his impressive six pack. Wow...

A smirk quirked on the god's lips as he watched the spy's eyes travel, her fingers loosening numbly around the cloth. He braced his hands on the bath tub edge and leaned back, showing an unchallenged display of his torso.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Miss Romanov?" his rich, velvetty voice murmured seductively, eyes alight with mischief.

Natasha's eyes lifted to his; her lips pursed at the arrogance there. "I've seen better." she murmured, sauntering forward. _Total lie_, a voice accused in her head. Total fucking lie. There was nothing that compared to that!

Her tongue ran out to wet her dry lips as she was level with him. She couldn't help him standing; and it felt like the most degrading thing she'd ever done as she lowered herself slowly to her knees between his parted thighs. This way, her face was level with lower stomach, eyes wondering, following the line where his body met his thigh...and_ wow_, she thought, eyes widening as she found the front of his trousers.

Then she remembered what she was supposed to be doing and snapped her eyes up from his groin. For some reason, they went to his face instead. The breath caught in her throat though, as she found his eyes - burning, darker than before, searing with fire. A hunger harboured there...a lustful one...

She quickly remembered the soap. Her cheeks blushed slightly at being caught and she lathered up the cloth with probably more soap than was necessary. She didn't really care, sitting up on her knees, eyes focused determinedly on his wounded abdomen. It was a good thing her hand wasn't trembling, she thought as she reached out and braced one on his stomach. It was all she could to keep her eyes from fluttering; she could feel the muscle beneath the soft skin ripple at her touch, packed with a dizzying strength.

She gulped down the dryness in her throat as she moved the cloth closer to him, focusing on keeping her hand steady. When her palm flattened the warm, soap lathered cloth over his wound, the god hissed, and she felt his muscles shift as he sucked in the breath for it.

Wow, she thought with wonder as she stroked over the wound, wiping away some of the dried blood. She was touching the God of Thunder's abs. Her fingers moved to massage the cloth around the center of the wound to cleanse it, and she felt Thor suck and hold in another breath. Well, his wound was deeper than hers; the soap would sting more.

Still, he bore it silently, Natasha's fingers caressing him slowly. She couldn't take her eyes off his muscles, examining every little pack of power he held. It was incredible...

She was almost disappointed when the wound was clean, sitting back on her heels - she couldn't touch him anymore. She fought the childish pout that instinct was drawing out. _Don't be stupid_, she chastised herself sharply, standing up and turning to the sink.

A hand shot out and claimed her wrist.

Natasha's eyes snapped over her shoulder as the thunder god clasped her wrist, holding her back. His eyes stared up at her, thick with a carnal emotion she didn't dare admit was there, his breathing slightly raspy.

_What the... _then her eyes lowered to his groin, seeing how it had grown, and she understood. With shock - he was attracted to _her_?!

She was so numb with the realisation she let the god ease her back to him, the cloth falling with a wet slap to the bathroom floor. As she'd done with him, Thor's hands found her shoulders and pushed her back onto her knees. Natasha let him, watching the way his hungry eyes scoured over her body as she lowered.

Her touch must have done more to him than she'd realised, she thought with a racing heart as her knees met the tiled floor. She felt at his mercy...but she couldn't deny the way she wanted him too, body tingling...

The breath hitched in her throat as she watched him. He tipped his head to the side, admiringly, as he stared over her. Then his eyes lingered in the neck of her skin tight suit, and Natasha could feel her cleavage showing from Thor's elevated position, knowing what he was looking at as he stared down into her clothes. Goosebumps raised up and down her skin as his thick, warm finger slowly hooked in the v-shaped neckline of her suit, biting her lip as her heart sped up. And the space between her legs slicked.

Especially as he dragged the zipper down. Her eyes fluttered along with her heart as his fingertip dragged down along the newly exposed skin slowly, dragging the zip with it. He paused on her sternum, level with the bottom of her breasts.

Natasha couldn't deny the wave of lust that coursed through her. Her nipples perked with excitement at his touch, pressing against the material of her suit.

Thor's eyes drank over them - over the curve of her chest in general - before his eyes flickered up to hers, dark, lustful...but asking for permission to go on.

She did better than a mere nod; she rose to her feet, clasped the god's face between her hands, and kissed him hard on the mouth.

His hands flew instantly to her waist as her hot mouth linked with his, igniting the passion between them irresistibly. It was delicious. They didn't waste any time either, Natasha kissing him boldly and deeply, the god instantly stroking out his tongue to dance with hers. His hand steadied at the back of her head, holding her to him.

The other molded her thigh around his hip, hooking her leg around him. He dragged her closer to his bulging erection by the inside of her knee, and Natasha moved the other one for him, straddling him on the bathrim.

His hand found her backside and held her down as his rips rolled up, grinding into hers. A groan slipped out between them.

In the back of her mind, Natasha knew that this probably wasn't the best idea, making out with her team mate...well, he'd started it. She could still see the almost feral desire in his crystal blue eyes, no longer light, round and innocent, intrigued with the fascinating mortal world around him - this was one hundred per cent pure lust, swirling thick, burning with testosterone.

How could the guy be a bug eyed kid and a sex god all in the same body? Somehow, though, he was.

And the sex god was stretching his legs.

Natasha moaned into his mouth as his large strong hands manhandled her, groping her backside and crushing her body to his. She didn't mind. Actually, she more than didn't mind - she fucking _loved_ it!

She threw herself at him without reservation, gripping handfuls of his already mussed up blonde hair, probing him passionately with her tongue. Who needed sweet right now? Just an hour ago, she'd been exhausted...now, she had far too much energy to burn, settling in her groin uncomfortably.

She didn't stop, revelling in the powerful hands scouring her body, wrapping her tightly around him. Her breasts pressed against his bare torso, glorifying in his upper nakedness.

She wanted to explore, to touch his chest and stomach and feel those glorious muscles again for herself, but-

The god grazed his lips breathlessly from hers and secured his hands either side of her head, holding her still. She was breathing hard too, fighting against his hands. He was sure he didn't imagine the quiet growl of frustration that came from her.

His lips quirked in the corner and he kept his eyes shut as his breathing started to settle, trying to regain his senses. His heart thudded in his chest.

It had been instinctive; seeing the woman on her knees, a clear view of her cleavage... well, that did things to a man. It had lit his blood, bringing out unknown packages of unused adrenalin still to be exhausted. Battle hadn't satisfied him yet. Not as much as he'd thought. There was more he'd wanted.

His trousers were uncomfortably tight beneath the lithe spy and it felt delicious having her squirm atop him. He wanted her.

His hands stayed at her head, feeling her want to nip forward and just continue what they'd started. Thor's eyes fluttered open, still burning, just with more control. Natasha's were blazing, warning him of the painful things that could happen to him if he didn't proceed.

He pushed it aside for a moment. "In Asgard," his voice rasped breathlessly, "Once blood lust has been satisfied, it is customary for warriors to fulfill certain ..._other_ lusts that require tending to."

Natasha was a fine woman - Thor had no doubt she was experienced in the ways of a man and woman between the sheets. But he also respected her as a shield-maiden. It wasn't fair for him to lull her into satisfying his own unspent desires if she'd rather not. She had been rather cosy with the archer. Perhaps the two were lovers. And Thor was not sure what was customary on Earth, how mortals eased their lingering tension after a battle.

She seemed more than eager, but still... he wanted her consent, to know in his conscience for the morning that he was in the clear. He was not declaring his love for the woman, and if they were to proceed, she had to understand that.

Things were different on this planet.

His hands softened on her face though as she ceased struggling, melting into his hands instead. He smiled softly at her compliance.

"You want this?" he asked. "It is satisfying lingering lusts from the battle, nothing more." he spelled out clearly, but gently. He did not want to hurt the woman's feelings; "As desirable as you are, I must leave for Asgard in the morn."

_And there was Jane,_ he vaguely noted in his head. His heart ached guiltily... but the ache in his loins was stronger and he pushed it away.

He hadn't realised his lips were leaning in again, but didn't care as he started to notice Natasha's delicate fingers playing just above his belt, trailing sweet patterns into his skin, luring him in...

"_Argh!_" he growled deep in his chest as an unexpected pain suddenly sliced through his hand, down the side of his palm, still on Natasha's cheek. He snapped it away instinctively, eyes darkening as he drank in the red of his own blood. His hand hovered in front of him, a firm nip in the side, bleeding as it stung.

His eyes lifted to the spy - and the thin, small dagger she held. Her eyebrow lifted sassily. "Then quit wasting time and fuck me."

**NOTE**

**Please review!**


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